Conviction
by squigglysheep
Summary: [Takes place 8 months after the Keep the Peace part 2's ending scene of season five.] How far would you go to save someone you love? How far would your drive take you when all other options are exhausted? What would you do? [Full summary inside]
1. Prologue

**Flashpoint: **Conviction

**Plot:** [Takes place 8 months after the Keep the Peace part 2's ending scene of season five.] How far would you go to save someone you love? How far would your drive take you when all other options are exhausted? What would you do? A targeted home invasion leads to Winnie's disappearance, a neighbor dead, and nearly Spike's death, but he survives; which sends him down the dark path of revenge when he begins searching for those who did it and why they took Winnie.

**Disclaimer: **Flashpoint and the characters aren't mine. Only doing this for entertainment purposes only.

**A/N:** This fic isn't my first rodeo, but it is my first Flashpoint fic. I miss Flashpoint so much that I had to write my own. Also, I was pretty much inspired to write this from Watch Dogs (a video game that's coming out near the end of this month, which I've been pretty much excited for since it was revealed back in 2012. The only thing similar to it is the phone Spike is using; other than that, I'm not even going to consider this a cross-over). Anyway, enjoy. I'll try to update as fast as I can, so don't worry about that. If I don't...feel free to light a firecracker under my butt to get me moving.

I have also changed a few things in the timeline - advice given to me from my friend who thought I should extend the time before Spike started his search for Winnie, which to me sounds a lot better now. It also gave me a chance to add in an idea I had when writing chapter two.

**Prologue**

**230am**

If anyone he knew would see him right now, they probably would almost not recognize him right off the bat. He had a scruffy look since he hasn't bothered shaving for several weeks now. Not only that, he didn't look like he was getting any quality rest, with the dark circles under his eyes. Michelangelo "Spike" Scarlatti sat in the back of a rented black van, across from another alley that was in between a busy night club and a restaurant. He held a professional camera in both hands as he waited for a vehicle to stop in the alley he was keeping an eye on. He straightened up a little, eyes wide in alert. He brought the camera up to peer into the view finder and zoomed in on the three men in business suits who got out of their car when another man walked out of the night club's exit.

_Right on cue..._he thought.

He continued taking snapshots of each of them and their vehicle. They were talking about business, but not about the night club, it was a front – their real business. As for what they were saying to each other, he didn't know, nor did he care all that much because he learned what they were really doing in there once he focused on the one who walked out of the club. The whole investigation he was doing was on his own accord, and was becoming rather an obsession really. Once the meeting was finished, and he took enough pictures, he placed the camera back inside it's case that was lying next to him, and took the case back with him into the front. He sat down in the driver's seat after placing the case in the passenger seat next to his phone and a leather-bound journal he picked up when he started this.

Scarlatti took a deep breath and sighed, sitting there for a few minutes to collect himself. He glanced down at his watch, and then absentmindedly moved the black wristband that had his friend's name on it around until he could see Lewis Young's name. A small smile slowly spread along his lips, thinking about his best friend.

"Lou," He whispered, "You would smack me around at first, tell me to get a hold of myself, but then...then I think you would help me. Right, buddy? You would help me find Winnie."

He chuckled lightly, but it sounded more sad than amused.

_'Everyone who gets close to me...'_ He trailed off, reaching over to the journal and pulled out a pen where he last left it to bookmark the page he was on. He glanced through the times and short descriptions he wrote down of the people he was keeping an eye on, and then ended the page with the new information before slowly closing the book.

He looked up, and stared out the window at nothing until his phone started buzzing. Slightly startled, he picked it up after dropping the journal back where it was, and then gazed at the screen to see who was calling. Frowning, he swiped his thumb across the screen and pressed the phone to his ear to answer.

"What?"

"Oh, sorry, buddy," It was Ed Lane, checking up on him. "Did I wake you?"

Scarlatti hesitated for a moment, biting his lower lip as he glanced around. "Yeah."

Lane replied, amused, "Spike, you're a terrible liar, you know that?"

He sighed, but didn't respond. He was tired, and needed to get home to upload the pictures he took, and finish up before getting some form of sleep. If one would call it that.

"What? No witty retort? Wow...I'm shocked."

"Ed, I'm tired and..."

Lane chuckled. "Look, Spike. I know. As your boss, I just wanted to call in and check up on you. Wanted to see how you were doing on your leave the commander ordered you to have."

"I'm _fine_, Ed..." Scarlatti rubbed at his eyes with his free hand, and then started to buckle up. While adding, "Really."

"Are you going to the grief counseling?"

"Yeah," He replied.

Well, he did go for a while, at least. A week before he didn't bother to show up anymore after that. He figured his team would know, like they knew he checked himself out of the mental health hospital a couple of months back after what happened at the Barn when the detectives told him they had to close the case due to a lack of evidence six months after Winnie was taken from him. It somewhat helped, being in the hospital, but he couldn't just sit around. He needed to do something, or else he would have lost his mind.

"Spike, if you need to talk, I'm here for you, buddy."

"Ed..."

"Listen, after my shift is over in the evening, we're going to have a barbecue over at my place," explained Lane, "Everyone will be there, Greg included. So how about it? I think it will be good for you to be around everyone. Maybe you can sit down and talk with Greg - "

Scarlatti let out a short laugh; an angry, pained laugh. He breathed in deeply and shook his head. Part of him wanted to see them, hang out, and enjoy being around friends and family, but he couldn't wait anymore. He closed his eyes, picturing Ed's concerned face, picturing everyone's concerned looks, and let out the breath he was holding.

"Sorry," Scarlatti muttered into the phone. "I have things to do. Thanks for the offer though, but maybe next time, okay?" He heard Lane call out his name as he ended the call and glanced down at the screen before placing the phone on silent mode and returned it into the inside of his leather jacket's pocket over the left side of his chest.

He started the van, stared at the steering wheel for a long moment before he started punching it as he let out a frustrated yell during his short, angry outburst. It was frustrating for him to try and keep them away, but he needed to. He didn't want to see anyone else he knew to get hurt. Outside of the van, a homeless man was searching through a dumpster, and when he heard the off-duty officer's little outburst, he stopped what he was doing and looked over at him. Scarlatti eventually noticed, and stopped punching the wheel and screaming, and stared back with a bleak expression.

"Damn, crazy drunk drivers," The homeless man muttered under his breath. He shrugged, shaking his head and continued dumpster diving when the Italian finally drove back home for some much needed rest - he needed to be focused later tonight.

Over at Ed Lane's house, everyone was asleep upstairs while Ed was sitting at the kitchen table, staring down at his cell phone when the bomb tech hanged up on him. He was slightly surprised by the way Scarlatti was acting, but he understood, or at least tried to understand what the younger man was going through.

"Spike..." He whispered. Setting his jaw a little, he shook his head and laid his cellphone down onto the table and sat there for several minutes. He contemplated on what he could do to help his friend and team mate, but he didn't want to push him any more than he already was to get him to open up again.

He knew Spike stopped going to the group counseling sessions, which Commander Holleran ordered after the incident at the Barn since he checked himself out of the mental hospital after spending a couple of weeks in there. Dr. Amanda Luria even offered to talk to him if he needed to talk, but the stubborn man refused. Lane had to tell Holleran what was going on, but he was having a hard time not to. He sighed, rubbing his face, and stood up as he decided to call Greg later in the day to talk to him about it and what he would do. Right now, he needed to go back to sleep.

**930pm**

The oblivious man was being watched on this cool evening. Mike Scarlatti was keeping an eye on him for a well over a month now. He learned his pattern; where he went to work, where he lived, and where he secretly went for his real occupation. He found out his name, his age, marital status, occupation, and the questionable activities based on the man's salary and CCTV camera footage. The man he was tracking had a family, and hid behind an identity of being a well-loved school teacher, which fooled everyone. He found out what he really did, and the police officer in him wanted to call it in, tell his friends, but the other part of him refused to. He needed to do this himself. He needed to know, and the only way was to follow the man into the club, and question him.

_Whatever it takes..._he thought, glancing up from the smart-phone's screen. His chocolate brown eyes glared at the back of the man's skull beneath his eyebrows and the bill of his baseball cap he wore. He then glanced down again at his phone, staring at the screen with the man's information he illegally obtained just by hacking into the other man's phone.

_**Mr. Thomas Boyer, age: 49, marital status: married, occupation: teacher.**_

While he read other bits of information, he thought, _I wonder how you would feel if someone took your pregnant wife and nearly killed you, Mr. Boyer? You wouldn't be doing what you're doing behind your family's back. Then again, you probably don't feel a thing, you sociopathic asshole._

He frowned, clutching the smart-phone in his hand while he sat outside of the bistro, where he was keeping an eye on the man who was sitting alone a few tables down from where he was. The custom smart-phone was definitely a beautiful piece of technology, and extremely illegal. Convincing his hacker friends to give him the schematics to make it was easy enough. Easy, as in, after promising none of the fallout will go back to them if the authorities ever catch him with it. It was his phone after all, with the extra applications from the schematics he needed to have in order to do what he needed to do. It was a lot better than hauling around his laptop with him, as the phone was far less conspicuous when he needed to hack something to get information on the fly, like viewing CCTV cameras, or finding out who someone was just by hacking into their own phone by a press of a button – though, sometimes, that wasn't the case, as he would need to do more than pressing a button on the screen.

He could do a lot more, oh so much more that made him really want to move away from being a blue hat. It was so tempting, but he made a promise to himself that he wouldn't use it anymore once he found Winnie and their baby. It was in beta stages when he approached the hacker group for help several weeks after finding out the investigation into Winnie's disappearance became a cold case after nearly six months of not being able to collect any leads or evidence for the case. At first, he was furious, almost hysterical when his raw emotions came out all at once when he was told the news by the detectives who visited him in the Barn after shift one night.

Once he calmed down enough, something tugged at the back of his mind that she was still alive, and needed help – his help. Not only her, but their child who was due a month after she was taken. His baby boy he hoped and prayed every night that was still alive just as much as he hoped and prayed for Winnie. A baby boy, and they were even thinking of naming him after Lewis. He bit his lower lip and closed his eyes for a moment. He thought about his late friend and losing him to that bounding mine, and then the thought of losing his wife and his own son...not being able to keep his neighbor's seven year old son he and Winnie were babysitting while his parents were away on a business trip was hard enough on him. Finding out who were the home invaders wasn't only for his family's sake, but for his neighbor's sake. He felt like he betrayed them, even though they weren't mad at him for what happened. It wasn't his fault, but he felt as if it was.

Survivor's guilt, Greg would say.

He breathed in a sigh. _Focus, Spike. Winnie is alive, and so is your newborn son. You just need to find them._

He wasn't the type to give up like the detectives did, not by a long shot. Not when Winnie and their child's lives were at stake.

After convincing the hacker group, he helped them finish all of the coding to bring it out of the beta stage and into its final form, and then added it in, which was a chip that replaced his GPS tracker in his phone. Good, he needed to be off the grid for a while, while conducting his own investigation. He was a lone wolf, and wanted to be so no one else would get hurt...or worse. He knew his friends wouldn't have any of it – they would help him without a second thought if he asked. He sat there, feeling guilty for not going to them when they told him if he needed anything, just tell them.

He lifted his hat off of his head for a moment to run a hand through his hair and grimaced a little. It pained him when he thought of each of them – Ed, Sam, Jules, Greg, Leah, and even Wordy – they were family, and all of them would have his back.

"Sorry, guys..." Scarlatti murmured with a hint of regret in his voice.

He put his hat back over his head when he returned his attention on the man who was still sitting there, finishing his cup of coffee and sandwich. Spike patiently waited for ten minutes, drinking his own large cup of coffee every now and then. He leaned back, brushing his fingertips over his left ear to make sure his blue-tooth headset was still on when he spotted Mr. Boyer rummaging a hand into his coat pocket to pull out his cellphone to answer a call he was getting.

Scarlatti quickly hacked into the man's phone, and quietly listened through his headset to the conversation.

"Do you have the new shipment in?" Questioned Mr. Boyer in a hush tone.

The bomb tech's upper lip twitched in contempt at the man's use of the word '_shipment'_.

_That's all those poor victims are to them...? Cargo and not another human being? Damn them._

He was half-tempted to shoot him on the spot right then and there if he didn't have anything to lose.

"Yes, sir," responded the voice on the other line. "Sending you the new password for tonight to get inside so you can give your final view of the new products before they are shipped out. Anything else, sir?"

"No," Mr. Boyer replied in satisfaction. "Well done. I'll give a glance at the password, and then I'll head over there in a few minutes once I'm finished here."

"All right. See you soon, sir."

The conversation ended, and Scarlatti intercepted the pass-code to get inside the VIP section of the club where Mr. Boyer did his dirty work, and did a mental note on what the code was before putting his phone away. He looked around, watching people walk pass him or drove down the busy street, but kept a watchful eye on the man. After five minutes passed, Mr. Boyer left, and Scarlatti waited a couple more minutes to get up and follow the man down the street toward the night club.

**Feedback will be much appreciated. Thank you for reading. Will update real soon.**


	2. A Little Bit of Happiness

**Flashpoint - Conviction**

* * *

**A/N:** So, Here's chapter one. Hope you like it. :) Don't worry, things will get ugly after the next chapter. Not really looking forward to it, but the plot demands it, and I shall write it. As for when the next one will be posted, probably in the next few days or so. I'll try to push them out every few days if I can. :D

* * *

**Chapter One: A Little Bit of Happiness**

**Six in-a-half Months Ago**  
**635am**  
**Scarlatti Residence**

Sprawled on his stomach, the bed sheet and blanket wrapped around his body as he slept soundly; his head halfway resting on his pillow with his mouth slightly open; possibly drooling, but he doesn't even notice. Sleeping at the foot of the bed, was a nearly one year old German Shepard, named 8-Bit, laying on his side. 8-Bit's ears perked when he heard soft footsteps approaching his master's room, and then he sat up to look at the door; wagging his tail somewhat. The bedroom door opened and a small, four-foot-three-inches tall figure peeked inside before moving in the room. The figure petted the German Shepard for a moment, then headed over until they stood at Mike Scarlatti's bedside.

The seven-year-old child, named Max, he and Winnie were taking care of him for a few days while their neighbors were away on business, quietly tapped at his arm that was hanging off of the side of the bed, and waited. When Scarlatti didn't move, the child then tugged on his short-sleeve gray shirt. Still no response. Sighing, Max leaned over, and tapped repeatedly at his face.

The little boy whispered, "Spike?"

Scarlatti let out a low groan, but still didn't wake up.

"Spike," Max whispered again. He looked at him, narrowing his eyes as he moved his eyeglasses up that slipped down his nose. The boy huffed and frowned when he couldn't wake him up, but alas, he was a stubborn one. This time he lightly shook his shoulder. "Wake up. Breakfast is almost ready. Wake up."

"Huh?" murmured Scarlatti, half-asleep. "Hmm...Babycakes..." He started murmuring incoherently about Babycakes and giant robots attacking the city, and the need to save the world.

Max stared at him for a long moment until the man stopped babbling here and there, and then the boy continued trying to wake him up. "Winnie said for me to wake you up. So, wake up."

He struggled to open his eyelids when he slowly started to smell the breakfast food Winnie was cooking downstairs in the kitchen. The freshly made hot coffee, eggs, and bacon filled the air, and when he breathed in the wonderful aroma, it stirred him from his slumber.

Somewhat.

He grunted. "Time is it...?"

"Time for breakfast," Max exclaimed. "Duh!" He grabbed the Italian's hand with both of his own and started to pull at his limp arm. "C'mon...you also promised that you'd go and visit my school today because of Career Day."

"Wha...?" Scarlatti muttered, his eyes slowly parting. He didn't care that the boy was pulling at his arm to try to get him out of bed.

"It's Career Day," Max repeated. He gave up pulling at his arm, but still held onto the man's hand as if his life depended on it. "Since my parents are away, you said you could take their place and visit my class and talk about what you do. Which sounds so much cooler than what my mom and dad does."

He chuckled tiredly, now looking over at Max. Max had a pair of bright green eyes and brown hair that was spiked up. The boy started spiking his hair up because he looked up to Scarlatti more than his own father, and wanted to be just like him. It was somewhat sad because Max rarely ever sees his father half the time, but at least he had a good role-model compared to others out there who were -in Spike's eyes- bad examples for a young child to look up to. The bomb tech adored the kid, and was happy to take care of him while Max's parents were away on business. He became friends to the family when he moved in their new house with Winnie after they married last year. So it was nice to be able to babysit him, especially since he was off today.

"Right," Scarlatti smiled at him, waking up some more as he turned over onto his back for a few minutes; blinking the blurred vision away. 8-Bit stood up on all fours, stretched, and walked up the bed to nuzzle his master's neck, and licked at his face. His master chuckled, petting him. "Yeah, yeah...I'm getting up, 8-Bit. I'll feed you, don't you worry."

8-Bit whined, and started to play with him. Whining louder, and then let out a few barks right by the man's ear.

He winced somewhat. "Ah...okay, okay, okay..." Scarlatti laughed some more, rubbing the dog behind the ear. "You gotta go, I get it." It yelped, walking over his stomach, before jumping off of the bed. The dog walked around Max and sat down when the boy was petting him while the two waited for Scarlatti to get up.

He moved the bed sheets away from him, and was glad that he remembered to wear shorts to bed instead of only his boxers, or nothing at all since the boy was staying over. He looked over at him, watching as Max continued petting his dog. "When is the class again for this Career Day thing?"

"It starts at eleven," Max jumped around a little in excitement. "Then we are going to have a pizza party. You're allowed to stay for it. Although, I doubt they could say no to you since you're a cop. You can arrest them if they refuse."

He chuckled as he nodded and said, "Okay, but I'm not going to arrest them because that would be an abuse of my power." Grinning, he moved around to sit on the side of the bed. He ran both hands through his hair and rubbed at his face. "Pizza will be good though."

Max gave him a wide grin and laughed. "Yes!"

He ruffled the boy's hair, and announced, "I'll be down in ten minutes. I need to take care of a few things before I sit down and eat. Can you take 8-Bit with you and let him out back for me, please?"

"Okay," Max ran out of the room with 8-Bit close behind him, and the two seemed to race downstairs to the kitchen. He then heard him telling Winnie that he'd be down soon.

Sighing, Scarlatti sat there, and grinned. _'Consider this practice for when you have your own kids.' _

He reached over to the nightstand where his wristwatch and the black armband he always wore ever since Leah gave him and the rest of the team one to wear were located on top of the book he was reading last night before bed. He grabbed his watch and the armband before standing up to make sure the alarm on his clock was off. He stretched out a little, letting out a yawn before picking out some clothes to wear for the day, and headed into the bathroom for his morning routine. He took a shower, shaved, dried off, dressed, and then bounded down the steps to meet them in the kitchen.

He breathed in deeply, smelling what she was cooking. "Mmm. Morning, bella," He smiled when he saw Winnie standing in her pajamas and robe in front of the stove. Usually, he was the one cooking, but she told him she wanted to cook every once in a while; mostly when he was off duty to treat him. She was also bored, and wanted to do something while on her maternity leave.

"Bella...?" Max questioned, raising an eyebrow.

He glanced down at the child, raising an eyebrow back at him. "Means '_beautiful' _in Italian."

"Oh," Max sat there, thinking about it for a moment, and then perked up. "Can you teach me some words?"

Scarlatti grinned, shaking his head in amusement. "As long as they aren't bad words, then sure." When the boy gave him a disappointed look, he chuckled and added, "Sorry, buddy. I don't want to be the one to corrupt my neighbor's child, and have to deal with angry parents."

"I've already learned a few words from kids at school though," Max protested, "Like, Fu-" Scarlatti quickly, but gently put a hand over the boy's mouth to stop him from saying it out loud.

"Not in front of the lady, kiddo." He warned him, but couldn't help but grin. He moved his hand away, and after a few seconds, the kid's sad look got to him and won him over. He leaned down and whispered into Max's ear. "Okay..." He glanced over toward Winnie to see if she was paying any attention, and then quietly taught him his first Italian swear word. "Figlio di puttana."

Max slowly tried to repeat it in a low whisper; messing up a few times as he was helped along by Spike, and then he finally said it correctly. Scarlatti grinned, chuckling.

Slowly shaking her head, Winnie was grinning while she was busy paying attention to the food she was cooking, not wanting to burn any of it. She chuckled at the two, and glanced over her shoulder at her husband. She has been learning Italian, mostly when she was visiting his relatives in Italy, where he surprised her with the whole _"Will you marry me?"_ question during their stay there last year in front of his mother and family one night during dinner. Of course, he said it like, _"Since you broke your rule to go out with a cop, how about you break it even more and marry me?" _

"You're so bad, Michelangelo Scarlatti."

"Uh oh," Max snickered. "Now you've done it. She said your full name. When I'm in trouble, my mom says my full name."

He glanced down at him. "Well, she's not my ma," He slowly shook his head, eyes wide in fear when he thought about his mother getting mad when he let a curse word slip out of his mouth when she was at hearing range as a child, or an adult...didn't matter. "My ma will probably kill me."

He heard Winnie scoff, and mentioned to him that his mother would probably kill him if she found out he was teaching a 7-year-old inappropriate words. He turned his attention to her.

"What? I learned some bad words when I was younger than him." He shrugged.

"I think your mother knew you were a really bad boy underneath all of that – you're good at hiding it from everyone else but me." Winnie sighed, laughing a little.

"You like it, Winnie." He responded, grinning slyly, and winked at her. "You like it when Spike is a bad boy. I know you do."

She cleared her throat, and quickly changed the subject before they end up corrupting Max even more with their adult talk. "Anyway, the eggs and bacon are almost finished. Sit down and I'll fill your plate."

Nodding, he playfully flicked Max's earlobe lightly as he walked passed him to head over to Winnie.

"Hey..." Max looked up at him, pouting a little as he rubbed at his ear.

Scarlatti smirked, sticking his tongue out before making his way over to Winnie to embrace his wife from behind. Winnie giggled, leaning her back against him, and paused for a moment to look down as his hands gently covered her belly. He rested his chin on her shoulder and looked down at the large skillet that had more bacon to add to the plate on the counter, and then the other skillet with just enough scrambled eggs for the three of them. She was eight months along, and he was still surprised how much she ate. She certainly had an appetite for bacon though and it amused him.

"Before you laugh and tell me I cooked too much bacon, Mike," she explained, trying to sound annoyed, but it came out in an amused kind of way. "Remember, I'm eating for two now."

"Uh huh. You and our baby boy are a couple of piglets."

She elbowed him lightly in the stomach when he started to laugh. "Don't make me smack you in the face with the frying pan." She replied, grinning. She was joking, of course, but he didn't think she was.

"Ow. Sorry." He grinned against the slope of her neck, and lightly kissed her a few times as she turned off the stove once the eggs and bacon were done. She sighed, closing her eyes for a moment and rested her hands over his that were still gently caressing her stomach.

They ignored the "Ew, gross," when Max glanced over at them.

"How about you sit down, and I'll fill our plates up?" Scarlatti suggested, giving her a kiss on the lips when she turned her head to look up at him. "No protest from you, sweetheart. Sit down." He smiled, kissing her again, and then grinning over at Max who commented about how gross it was to see grown-ups kissing.

"One day, buddy...one day you'll be an adult soon." He laughed when Max shook his head, and then the couple shared another kiss before Winnie went over to sit in her chair adjacent to Max.

Once their plates were filled with bacon, eggs, and toast, he poured himself a cup of coffee, sitting it down with his plate across from his wife. Before he went to sit down, he went over to fill one of the dog bowls with dog food, dropping a raw egg on top that would help make the canine's coat nice and shiny (which was something he added to the dog food once a week), threw the empty egg shell into the garbage can with the other eggs and empty bacon package, and then filled the other dish with fresh water. Next, he opened the sliding door to let 8-Bit back in when the German Shepard sat by the door after he was finished relieving himself and making his way around the enclosed back yard. While 8-Bit happily chowed down on the food, Scarlatti finally sat down with the other two to eat his breakfast.

He conversed with Max more because the kid was still excited for today.

"All right," He explained to Max, "I'll walk you to the bus stop, and then I'll go to the SRU to get things ready later. Then I'll be there before your class starts."

"Oh, make sure you wear your cool pants and stuff." He stared at him with a serious expression.

He smiled. "I will, don't you worry."

There was about a couple of minutes of silence as they ate, but Max shifted around in his chair, and managed to get Scarlatti's attention when the man was glancing through his cellphone at news reports and checking messages.

"Um...Spike?"

"Yeah?" He glanced over at him, and waited to see what he wanted.

"Can you take me to school?" Max asked, sounding as if he was pleading, and slightly nervous.

His eyebrows raised as he stared at him curiously, lowering his phone down to lay it on the table. "Yeah, sure, Max. I can take you, no problem." He paused for a moment, and then questioned him, "What's wrong with the bus though? Are you sitting by some smelly kid or something?" He grinned a little, trying to lighten the atmosphere between them when he noticed the boy's mood changed.

Winnie looked at Max in concern, and she said, "You're not being bullied, are you?"

"No," Max replied. He shook his head, but avoided their gaze. The couple gave each other a knowing glance, but didn't say anything to him on how he was suddenly avoiding their gaze when she asked if he was being bullied. "I just want to...if...if it's okay."

"Like I said, buddy," Scarlatti assured him with a smile, reaching over to pat him on the arm, not really noticing when the child cringed a little since Max was looking down and hiding his face. "It's no problem. I have to go to the store anyway. Right?" He gave Winnie a quick glance, and she nodded in return. "See, and even if I didn't have to go to the store to buy more food, I still wouldn't mind dropping you off at school."

"Okay," There was a long pause, and then Max looked up at him. "Can you pick me up after school, too?"

Nodding, Scarlatti grinned. "Sure," He glanced down at his watch and then said to him, "You might want to go get ready if you're finished there, Max. We'll have to leave before eight."

Max nodded, pushing his plate away, but finished his glass of milk first, and slid off the chair. "Okay." He ran out of the kitchen and up the stairs into the guest bedroom he was staying in to pack his backpack with his books and notebooks for school.

Scarlatti sighed, licking his lips before sipping on his coffee and chewing on the rest of his piece of toast. He glanced at Winnie, who was eyeing him, and then he nodded knowingly on what she was going to ask him.

"I'll talk to him when I'm driving him to school," He told her after swallowing his food. "I think I can get him to open up and see what's going on."

"I'd say he's probably being bullied, Mike..."

"I hear a but coming..."

"But," Winnie smiled a little. She explained, "He does seem happier staying here than he does at his own home with his parents from what I've seen."

Scarlatti stayed quiet for a minute, gazing at her. He sighed, leaning back in his chair, and tilted his head a little before shaking his head; dangling his hand toward the floor as he held a piece of bacon for 8-Bit. 8-Bit took noticed after he was finished eating the dog food, and casually went over to take the bacon from him. His master petted him as he continued to think about on what she was applying about Max's home life.

"I don't want to draw to conclusions, since his dad works a lot," he shrugged his shoulders. "And his mom seems pretty nice. I mean, they both seem nice." He sighed again, scratching his head. "I know we've dealt with abusive parents on the job, but...I'll try to get him to talk. I certainly hope he's just getting teased on the bus than being abused at home some how. Not that kids bullying other kids is any better, but..."

"I know," Winnie nodding in understanding.

They stayed quiet for a few minutes, enjoying each others company while they sat and drank their coffee. When it was closer to the time to leave, Scarlatti took his phone, stood up, and walked around the table to give her a hug and a kiss.

"I'll be back later, bella," He whispered, smiling warmly, and kissed her again, but longer this time.

When they ended the kiss, she whispered back, "I'll be here." She smiled up at him as they hugged. He helped her out of the chair, and then she reminded him about the grocery list.

He went over to the fridge and ripped the list off of the notepad, and glanced back at her. "Hey, you need anything else that's not on the list?" He asked, skimming the list of what they needed at the store.

When she shook her head, he folded the piece of paper and stuffed it inside his jeans, and grabbed for his car keys and wallet that were lying on the counter before he headed upstairs to see if Max was ready to go. He knocked on the door that was open, and stood in the doorway when he saw the boy standing by the bed and slowly putting his books into his backpack. He was looking like he was thinking intently about something that seemed to bother him.

Scarlatti leaned against the door frame, deciding it was best to talk to him while he was driving him to school. Smiling, he said as he took several steps into the room, "You know, if you go any slower, I'm pretty sure a sloth could finish packing a bag and be at school before I even drop you off."

Max managed to grin, glancing up at him silently after putting in the last of what he needed into his bag, and then zipped it closed. He shouldered his backpack and walked over and stared up at him.

"I'm ready."

"You sure?" Scarlatti knelt down so he was at eye-level with him. "Because, I could say that we ended up being in a middle of a war with space monsters this morning. Which...because we're too awesome, we won the war, leaving none of the evil space monsters alive, and saved the day. So, I couldn't take you to school because it really wore you out - with the fight and everything. Heroes have to rest and treat themselves to a relaxing, fun day somewhere, right?"

Max giggled, looking at him funny. "You're so weird." He playfully slapped the top of the man's head, and started to walk passed him.

Scarlatti chuckled for a moment, but then carefully grabbed his wrist to stop him when he wanted to make sure no one was bullying him. When the child whipped around to face him, he released the boy's wrist when he noticed the slightly scared expression that formed. He raised his hands when he watched as Max backed up a little from him.

"I won't ever hurt you, Max," Scarlatti said mildly, "You know that, right?" Max nodded hesitantly, and the SRU officer continued, "If there is someone hurting you in any way, please tell me because I can stop them from hurting you. Understand?"

Max looked down at the floor, nodding a little.

"Okay..." He slowly stood up, keeping an eye on him for a few silent moments. "Let's get going."

Nodding again, but still avoiding his eyes, Max walked out, and Scarlatti followed him downstairs and the two headed toward the front door. They waved at Winnie, who was resting on the sofa in the living room, with 8-Bit laying beside her.

"See you guys," Winnie called out to them, particularly at Max. "Have a good day at school, Max."

The boy didn't respond to her as he quietly exited the house, and when Scarlatti locked eyes with Winnie, he slowly shook his head, looking slightly helpless, but hopeful that Max would speak up on their way to school. It was a ten minute ride to the school, and the boy didn't have to be in his homeroom until fifteen minutes after eight. They had plenty of time to have a talk.

"Don't push him, Mike." She mouthed quietly, just in case Max was standing close enough to hear them.

He nodded, glancing outside to see him standing by the driver's side of the truck. Turning back to her, he said to her, "I know. See you when I get home from the store after I drop him off." While adding, "If you need anything, call me."

After she nodded with a smile, he closed the door behind him, and headed over to the truck. He breathed in the warm air, jiggling the car keys in his hand.

"Hey, buddy," he pressed the button of the device attached to his car key to unlock the doors. "How about you sit up next to me in the passenger seat instead of the backseat."

Max slowly nodded, and walked around the front of the truck to climb into the passenger side while Scarlatti sat behind the wheel. He waited until the boy closed the door and buckled up before turning on the ignition. When he buckled up as well, he glanced at him as he started to back up out of the driveway.

"Not used to being high-up in a vehicle, huh?" Smiling as Max shook his head, but was still quiet as Scarlatti drove him to the elementary school.

After several minutes passed, he decided to try and strike up a conversation about school with Max. "So...how's school going this year for you?" He wondered, glancing over at him.

Max stared out the passenger-side window, and didn't reply.

"It's going okay, right?" He went on, "You're pretty smart, you know that? You remind me of myself when I was your age. That was a long time ago, and no..." He smirked. "I'm not as old as a dinosaur." He chuckled lightly, glancing over at him again when he stopped at a traffic light. His smile slowly faded when he still hadn't managed to gain a reaction from him. He sat there, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel for a couple of moments while he waited for the light to turn green, and thought about what he should say next.

He pressed his foot on the gas when the light finally switched to green, and he continued down the street. "You want to know something?"

"Hmm?" A reaction, but barely, but still a reaction. Now all he needed was Max to look at him.

"If something is wrong, and someone hits you, it's not your fault," Scarlatti explained. "Now matter what they say to you."

There was a long pause, and Max quietly spoke up with a trembling voice, "Did...did anyone ever hit you when you were a kid?"

"Like...at school?" He smirked a little, remembering his school days. "Plenty of times. I was bullied because of my smarts and being the geeky one. There wasn't a day that went by where I didn't visit the inside of a locker, or ended up seeing how long I can hold my breath while a couple of punk kids took me into the restroom to give me a not-so-needed shower via a toilet...sometimes ones that weren't flushed." He cringed at the memory. "But now, look at me." He smiled proudly. "Now I protect people."

"No, not at school...uh..." He quickly turned away, looking out the window once more.

Scarlatti bit his lip. _'Damn it...'_ He slowly shook his head at the feeling he was having right now. Nothing angered him more than adults hurting an innocent child. He and Winnie may be right about this, and truthfully, he hated being right. Parents abusing their own children was an awful, horrible thing to deal with.

"Just think about what I said, okay, Max?"

"About it not being my fault?"

"Yes," Scarlatti nodded, finally pulling up to the school where most of the children were being dropped off. He turned to him as the boy was unbuckling the safety belt. "There's a difference in out-right abuse and disciplining a child like yourself when you do something bad, like...punching someone for no reason, or breaking something you shouldn't have. You know, things like that. Hitting you with a closed fist out no where is wrong, period."

Max looked up at him, thinking about what he said, and then slowly nodded in understanding.

"Remember, Max," Scarlatti promised him. "If you're scared, just run right next door, and either Winnie or myself will let you in. Neither of us will let anyone hurt you. All right?"

"Really?"

"Really."

"Promise, Spike?"

"I promise." He nodded.

Max smiled for the first time since before breakfast, and Scarlatti smiled back as the seven-year-old opened the door, and carefully climbed down.

"I'll see you soon, Max." He waved his hand a little, and waited until he was safely inside the school building before driving off to the store.

Five minutes later, he pulled into the store's parking lot. Since it was early, there were five other vehicles parked in the front of the store, while only a few were parked along the side where the employees parked. Before getting out, he reached for his phone, and moved through his contact list to call in a friend for a favor.

"Hello?" His friend answered after several rings.

"Tyler, buddy!"

"Spike!" Tyler asked, "How've you been, man? Haven't heard from you in a while. Still in the SRU, fighting crime like some superhero?"

"Yeah," Scarlatti replied, grinning. "Still wearing the cool pants, carrying nice weapons and all the cool tech I've ever wanted." He laughed.

"Good, that's good," Tyler then questioned, "So, what's up, Spike? Why are you calling me so early in the morning?"

"Because I know you're an early bird, and you're working right now."

Tyler chuckled and sighed. "Obviously..."

"Look," he explained, "I need a favor, Tyler."

"Let me guess. You want me to run a background check on someone."

"Obviously."

"Man," Tyler make a clicking sound with his tongue. "You know I can't do that without a good reason, Spike."

"Tyler," Scarlatti sighed. "I'm pretty sure I have a legitimate reason in asking you to run a background check, okay."

"Couldn't you do this yourself, though?" Tyler said.

"Tyler," he replied, "I'm not at work, and I'm busy trying to take care of my wife who is at home right now, waiting for our baby to pop out of her next month sometime. I don't exactly have time right now."

"I mean, I know it's my job to run background checks here at the station, but you're like a geeky, gun-totting hacker with mad computer skills, while I'm just some boring dude who sits at a desk all day doing legal things with not-so-mad computer skills."

"Tyler..."

"What?"

"You owe me," He reminded him. "Just this once, okay?" He could hear his friend sighing into the phone, and then muttering something about getting into trouble. "Tyler."

"Alright, fine," Tyler muttered, "Give me the name or names and I'll work on it when I have time later today."

"Thanks, buddy," Scarlatti then explained, "The names are Paul Greene and his wife, Jennifer Greene."

"Okay...give me a second, so I can write their names down." While he was writing down the information in his notepad, he asked, "Spike...why do you want me to run a background check on this couple for? Do I even want to know?"

"I think...I think they're abusing their son," Scarlatti sighed, switching his phone around to another ear, so he could take off his seat belt and get out of his truck. "His name's Max. Winnie and I are taking care of him for a few days while both his parents are on a business trip. It's the first time we're babysitting him without them around, and we noticed him acting strange while we were eating breakfast this morning when the topic of bullying came up, and then he freaked out a little when I touched his wrist to stop and ask him if anyone really was bullying him."

A pause, as he pressed a hand against the hood of his car while he leaned forward a little. He glanced around the parking lot. "You know that look kids have?"

"Yeah..."

"He had that same look, and he seems happier being around us – relaxed, laughing, having a good time," he told him, "But then, I just noticed that look, and maybe I was blind, and didn't see it until now."

"Well, you shouldn't beat yourself up for not noticing it before, Spike."

"Yeah, I know, but..."

"Spike, I'll let you know when I can do this, okay? I'll let you know if either parent has any run-ins with the law. I have to get going."

"Okay, thanks," The two said their goodbyes and finished their call.

Scarlatti took in a deep breath, putting his phone back inside his pant pocket, and moved toward the store as he slowly exhaled. He knew Tyler was busy working, and would probably end up calling him back later this afternoon or evening with the results, but he can most certainly wait until then. He'll be busy all day anyway, and the talk he had earlier with Max was a good start. He hoped.

An abused child is afraid to tell anyone when their parents threaten them, but once the child realizes it's okay to talk to another adult that someone is hurting them, then they will tell everything. He remembered how some of their hot calls where children were involved and abused by their parents or guardians. Some of it made him so angry, appalled, and thanked God that his parents were good people. The worse calls stuck out like a sore thumb, because they didn't end well for the child. It was haunting, and he hoped he can help Max before it's too late.

Of course, he never thought he'd be living next to a couple he suspected of being child abusers. It didn't matter if it was the husband or the wife, as there's always a chance that it's both, as well as one or the other causing the harm while either one of them is completely unaware, or are being abused themselves.

Domestic calls, he shuddered. They were the worse, and he would rather deal with bombs than that stuff.

_'Still though...if I can help him out of a dangerous situation, then I'll be happy,'_ he thought, '_A little bit of happiness goes a long way.' _He smiled at that, knowing it took him a while to become happy again after Lewis Young died.


	3. Questionable Visit

**Flashpoint – Conviction**

* * *

******A/N:** I really hope people don't mind the sub-plot. I thought it would be good to add it in, just because it seems "normal", before things drastically change for Spike (and Winnie) here. I also decided to split this chapter up, and start the beginning of the next chapter with that dinner I mentioned earlier. Anyway, I'm back, and just in case you didn't read my additional note at the beginning of the prologue, I did decide (after a friend's suggestion) to increase the time between when Winnie is taken and when Spike decides to find her himself. 6-7 months sounds more reasonable than a few months. Which, as I said, is better now since I can add in an idea I had to the story, and not feel so...rushed. Also, I'm extremely sorry for the lateness, but I was feeling ill at the start of June for a while. I think I'm okay now, so here's hoping I can write these chapters a lot quicker without any problems. But hey...can't help it. In any case, if it happens again or something else comes up, know this: I won't stop writing this story because I'm really enjoying working on it. Ta-ta, for now, and thank you for the two reviews "guests". Not sure if you're the same guest or not, but thank you regardless. :) More feedback would be appreciated, of course.

* * *

**Chapter Two: Questionable Visit**

**James Strath Elementary School**

**10:45am**

Minus his helmet and MP5, but dressed in his SRU uniform and gear, Scarlatti was driving Babycakes up the sidewalk toward the school; passing several parents who were either making their way into the school, or out. They gave him curious and questioning looks, but figured he was here like most of them were for today. By the time he approached the double doors of the front entrance, a petite, well-dressed, middle-aged woman with graying hair, a stern look and caring blue eyes greeted him when she opened one of the doors to hold it for him.

"Thanks," He said to her for keeping the door open. He drove the robot passed the doorway, and once it was inside, he stopped to turn to her.

"I'm Officer Mike Scarlatti," He introduced himself to her. "I'm taking care of my neighbor's kid, Max Greene, for a few days. His parents are gone on a business trip, and he invited me to take their place and talk to his class about my career choice."

She nodded at that. "I believe his teacher, Mrs. Baliant mentioned that yesterday during lunch," she said, "He seemed very excited that someone he knew was able to make it. It's good that you were available to come in and talk to his class."

"And you are?" He extended his free hand while he held the remote-controller that moved the robot around in his other hand.

"I'm Principal Abigail Reyes," She answered, smiling back, taking his hand in hers in a firm handshake. "Oh, you have a good, strong grip, sir." She complimented, impressed.

"Eh, I have to in my line of work, ma'am," Scarlatti replied, "Dealing with defusing bombs isn't for weak hands."

"I see," She nodded. "Working with them must be very scary, too. You're a very brave, young man."

"It is," he admitted, "I make due though."

Principal Reyes stared at him for about a minute, looking as if she was trying to figure out if she's seen him before. She soon asked, "Didn't I see you on the news a while back during the terrorist attack in the city? With all of those bombs?"

He smiled, or at least tried to, and nodded. "Yeah."

Was all he could say, seeing as even the mere mentioning of that day was still a bit difficult to talk about with people, other than his own team. At least, she took the cue that he didn't want to talk to her about it, and motioned for him to walk with her.

He drove the anti-explosives robot into the school with her walking next to him to usher him over to the main office so he could sign in at the front desk. She waited outside with Babycakes, while he went into the office to sign his name on the visitor's form, and a brief reason why he was there. Once he was done signing in, he continued to walk with her through the halls, passing by some quiet classes where the students were working and loud classes of third and graders enjoying group projects, or passing by curious children walking down the hallways. He answered some of their questions if they stopped to ask him about it, which he was very happy to do so.

She glanced down at the robot curiously for a moment, and then initiated a conversation with the SRU officer.

"Thank you for coming, Officer Scarlatti," She smiled, "Even though it's Career Day, I thought it was best to let the school know that you were going to be here only for what today is about, and nothing else – fortunately. I didn't want anyone becoming nervous or scared when they see you with your neat little robot you have there."

He laughed lightly at how she mentioned his neat little robot he had with him. "Well, thank you, Principal Reyes and it's understandable." He gave her a nod as he smiled in return. "It's nice to visit a school under these circumstances for once, and not during an emergency."

God knows what he would do if Team One had to deal with an active shooter in an elementary school. He hoped he would never have to deal with it, especially once his child is born and old enough to attend grade school. Taking care of Max, even for the short amount of days, was a plus in seeing how he and Winnie could handle parenthood once their own son is born, but dealing with certain situations some day will probably be hard; though, Ed, Greg, and Wordy all said he could run to them if he needed help with anything – just like how they told Sam to do the same when Sadie was born. Being a soon-to-be father was both equally amazing and terrifying at the same time. Unlike him though, Winnie seemed to be taking the whole parenthood and mother thing pretty well, but that wasn't surprising to him at the slightest. _That's my Winnie,_ he thought with a warm smile.

Scarlatti smiled thoughtfully for a few moments, walking beside Mrs. Reyes, while she led him to the corridor where the second grade classes were, which was where Max's classroom was located. The two waited outside while another parent was speaking to the class. He glanced inside the room from the hallway, and noticed Max right off the bat, who was suddenly looking back at him from his seat across from the classroom door. The boy's bored expression changed, and he waved frantically at the officer, while whispering his nickname a few times. His teacher quieted him, but the boy didn't stop grinning happily when the man finally acknowledged him as he waved back.

While Scarlatti was quietly talking to the Principal, some of the other students were looking at him curiously, and a couple of them asked Max about Spike, but were shushed by Mrs. Baliant since someone was still speaking to them. Smiling a little, Mrs. Reyes gently grabbed the man's arm and pulled him away from the children's view so their attention wasn't on him.

"Sorry," he chuckled.

"It's okay," she said, "You and your robot seemed to have perked them out from falling asleep."

He laughed quietly, nodding in agreement. "You seem pretty interested in Babycakes as much as the students."

"I can't help it," She chuckled. "My father was a mechanical engineer, and he used to bring his small robots home to work on them. He also fancied giving each of them names, too. I would have wanted to follow in his footsteps, but becoming a teacher and a principal was something I truly wanted to do, like my mother." She smiled, adding, "I honestly think those kids are going to love you the most out of all of the other parents, especially since you brought your robot with you."

He nodded quietly. "I'm sure I'll get the same reaction I always get during the summertime when the children are out of school. When we stop by a fast-food place or a diner for a quick bite to eat, and there's little kids inside, they always flock over to us if we're sitting inside."

He smiled happily, folding his arms in front of his chest while he explained to her how much he enjoyed seeing children come up to him and whoever he was partnered up with, and ask them what seemed like a million questions, and how they want to give their gear a closer inspection. In which they explained what everything was when a child pointed at it; minus their firearm in their thigh holster.

He then shrugged. "We don't mind it, but their parents sometimes did, and would have to practically carry them away from us after apologizing repeatedly because they thought their kids were bothering us while we ate."

While they continued to wait quietly out in the hall, she decided to tell him about the class, and how well-behaved everyone was for the most part.

Scarlatti then decided to ask her about Max. "Speaking of behavior," He leaned back against the wall, looking down at her as he quietly asked, "How well is Max's scholastic performance and how is his behavior in school?"

"Hmm," She looked back at him for a long moment, eyebrows slightly furrowed, jaw set. If she was bald, she would remind him of Ed Lane. "Max is an above-average student, but lately, he has been slipping somewhat. Very smart, and Mrs. Baliant seems to have to keep pushing him to work since he day dreams. He's also very shy. He has...been dealing with bullying lately, but he did lash out at one of his teachers back in January of last year."

"Did you find out why?"

"He pushed another boy on the playground during recess, and when Mr. Johnston – the gym teacher - saw it, he went over to talk to him, and ask him to apologize to the other boy he pushed. When he didn't get a response, he touched his arm to get his attention, and Max suddenly went nearly berserk on him."

"Then what happened?"

"I punished Max, of course," she explained further, "I gave him a week of in-school detention during lunch. He sat in the office with me, ate, and did his work. I also sent a letter to his parents, telling them what happened, and suggested them to get Max into some kind of counseling. I guess they did since I haven't seen him in my office for getting into trouble since that incident." She continued, "He doesn't seem aggressive at all...no lashing out, even if he's teased or pushed around by other students. We try our best at keeping the school bully-free by punishing them and teach them why it's wrong, but it doesn't always work."

"Doesn't always work isn't comforting to me," he said, "Same with punishing them. Bullies are either bullied themselves or are trying to reach out for help. It would be better if they were helped, as well as the victims, and not be punished."

He was getting a better understanding about what was going on with Max. For him this morning, Max didn't lash out, he backed away in fear. Maybe the seven-year-old went to counseling for a while, but he could have also been threatened to never lash out – never defend himself again, and that worried him.

"If you're also suggesting the boy is being abused at home, we informed children services about what happened," she went on, "They investigated his parents, and found no evidence of any form of abuse; no visible markings, nothing, and when they questioned Max, he said he was just being bullied by some students."

He quietly nodded again, peering into the room just when the speaker was starting to finish up with his presentation.

"Do you have any children of your own, Officer Scarlatti?"

He glanced back at her, and shook his head, and thought, _Besides Babycakes and 8-Bit?_

He grinned, answering her, "No, not yet. Sometime next month though, my wife and I will have our first child."

"Oh," She smiled warmly. "Congratulations, then. Will it be a boy or a girl?"

"A boy," He replied. "Winnie and I have already chosen a name for him. After Lewis...Lou was a beloved friend of ours."

When he said was, she nodded in understanding. "I'm sorry for your loss."

He spoke quietly, "He was an SRU officer like me...risked his life." He gave her a nod, lightly chewing on his lip to keep it from quivering. It was still a hard topic to talk about to anyone; more so than than any other incident, as he was still not over it. He honestly didn't think he ever will be over losing his friend like that.

Not wanting to push on the sensitive topic, she nodded again in understanding. She patted him lightly on the arm, and then she looked in when she heard the class applaud once the speaker was finished. She watched as Mrs. Baliant stood up and began talking to the class for a moment while the other parent went to sit down in the back of the class where ten other parents were, and then Mrs. Reyes looked back at Scarlatti.

"I believe it's your turn to speak to the children now," She smiled. "I must return to my duties in the office. Nice to meet you, Officer Scarlatti."

"Likewise," He shook her hand one more time, and watched her walk away toward the office.

He returned his attention to the classroom, and waited for the teacher to finish speaking. Smiling, he nodded when Mrs. Baliant waved him inside, and he raised a finger up to signal for her to give him a moment, and disappeared from the door. Next, he followed Babycakes in, which practically caused the whole class of second graders to be excited as they stared at the machine in awe.

"Hi, nice to meet you." He shook the teacher's hand, after parking Babycakes in front of the desk, and stood beside the robot. They talked quietly for a moment, discussing briefly on how much time he had, and then he started when she told him he could begin whenever he was ready. She went to sit down in the back of the class so she was able to see all twenty-six of her students.

He laid the controller down on the desk behind him and clasped his hands briefly together.

He started, "I'm Mike Scarlatti, an officer with the _Strategic Response Unit. My team calls me Spike, and..." _A little girl raised her hand, and he pointed at her as he smiled, figuring out what she was going to ask him. "Go ahead, sweetheart."

"Why is your name Spike?"

"Because I had my hair spiked up when I became a police officer, and the name stuck with me ever since." He explained to her with a smile.

"Oh, cool."

Scarlatti chuckled. "Copy that," He continued, pointing his hand at Max as he said, "I'm actually here on his parents' behalf since they couldn't make it today." He explained, "Max asked me yesterday if I could come in and talk to your class, and I happily obliged." He had the whole class's full attention on him as he spoke about his work. "I joined the SRU back in two thousand and five..."

Scarlatti spoke to the eager seven-year-old students for fifteen minutes, answering questions here and there, and then moved on to talking to them about Babycakes since he was the last one to talk to the class, and he could continue until the bell rings. They were really excited to learn about the anti-explosives robot the most, and he did as best as he could to explain to them about what every part did without confusing them too much with the technical terms, and what types of explosives he defused, and the dangers of them. He then finished off his presentation with why he defused bombs.

There was five minutes left, and the teacher decided to tell all the kids and their parents to go out to the playground, and sit at the picnic tables so they could have the pizza party out there since it was a warm day out. All of the children said their "thank yous" to him and the other parents who took time to come out and talk to them about their careers, and then their teacher dismissed everyone.

"Officer Scarlatti?" Mrs Baliant approached him while everyone was following her aid out of the room for the party.

"Yeah?" He glanced over where Max was still sitting at, wondering if the boy was waiting for him since he didn't get up out of his seat like the rest of the class did.

"I was wondering if you can stay for the party, too, or are you...?"

"Oh, I'm off today, but I can only stay for another hour."

The teacher nodded, thanking him for coming in to speak with the class, and told him how she learned about his work as much as the students did.

"It was my pleasure," They shook hands, and then she excused herself. "I hate to cut this short, but I need to help the other parents set things up outside while we wait for the pizza to arrive."

Nodding, he watched her leave for a moment, and then looked back at Max. Sighing a little, he walked down the isle before stopping in front of him. He leaned over, placing his hands over his knees. "What's up, buddy? You okay?"

"I'm okay..." Max managed to speak.

Scarlatti pulled out the chair from the desk that was in front of the child, and sat, facing him, with his arms folded over the back of the chair. He kept his eyes on him while he finally responded. "You don't sound like you're okay." He gradually exhaled, tilted his head slightly, and soon asked, "I didn't embarrass you somehow, did I?" He grinned when Max shook his head. "Good. Now you can tell everyone you know that I'll be the cool dad who doesn't crack stupid, embarrassing jokes."

Max managed to laugh at that, which the bomb tech was happy to hear.

Glancing around the room to see if everyone was gone, and then up at the clock, he returned his attention onto Max.

"Listen, Max..." He said, "Sorry about what happened earlier this morning before I took you to school. I didn't mean to scare you."

Max avoided eye contact again, shrugging his shoulders a little. "It's okay, Spike."

Scarlatti shook his head. "It's not okay, Max," He spoke to him quietly. "I meant what I said. If anyone is hurting you, it's okay to tell another adult about it so we can stop whoever is causing you pain. You can tell me, another police officer, a teacher, and even your school's counselor about it. You don't need to keep it a secret because nothing bad will happen to you."

He was about to continue when he heard a light knock behind him, and looked over his shoulder to see Max's teacher standing there.

Mrs Baliant smiled a little. "Oh, sorry for interrupting," she stepped inside the room. "I was looking for Max since he wasn't outside with the others yet."

"It's okay, Mrs. Baliant," He smiled back and stood. "I was just having a little talk with him to see if he wanted to head out with me to return my robot to the SUV, or wait for me with the others out at the picnic tables." He glanced down at Max, who shrugged his shoulders.

Max slipped out of his seat, and headed over to the robot, looked at it for a long moment before looking back at his neighbor. "I'll walk with you, Spike."

"Is that okay with you?" Scarlatti asked her as he headed up the isle to collect the controller from her desk. "It won't take long."

"Oh, it's fine," Mrs. Baliant waved her hand a little. "The pizza won't be here for another five minutes or so anyway. When you're done, you can just walk around the school, and head out to the back. You'll find the rest of the class at the picnic tables underneath the shelter there."

"Okay, thanks," He said, and once the teacher left, he looked down at Max. "We'll talk later tonight if you want to."

Max quietly nodded, and the two walked beside each other as the Italian went to take Babycakes to place it in the back of the van, while Max quietly looked on in silence. While Scarlatti was strapping the robot down to secure it, he looked back at the boy.

"I'm inviting a couple of my friends over for dinner tonight, and we're going to have steak cooked on the grill," He asked, "Do you like steak? Because if you don't, I can make you something else if you'd like. There will also be baked potatoes and mixed veggies, too."

"No, I don't mind," Max replied, "I like steak."

"How about a baked potato?"

Max hummed a little, frowning at the mention of a baked potato.

"You don't like baked potatoes?" Scarlatti raised an eyebrow. "How about potato wedges? They're pretty much like fries."

"I know what they are," Max rolled his eyes. "I'll have those."

"I'm guessing you like veggies..."

"Well, duh." Max grinned, and the man smirked.

Finished with securing Babycakes, Scarlatti climbed out of the back, and then began to unzip his tactical vest, and took it off but kept his other gear on. He'll bother with the rest when he's ready to leave after having some pizza with Max's class. He looked down curiously when he felt Max tug at his shirt.

"What's up?"

"Is that vest real heavy?"

"It is until you get used to it," he answered, "Once you train in it and wear it every day, sometimes you don't even notice that you have it on."

"Can I try it on?"

Scarlatti looked at him for a moment, still holding the vest in both hands, and then slowly nodded. "Sure thing, buddy."

He carefully put it on him, and then laughed quietly when Max commented about how heavy it was. "Gosh, you're really strong," The seven-year-old looked up at him with a new-found perspective on the SRU officer.

"Ah..." Scarlatti admitted, "Well, I don't know about that, but...thanks." He took off the vest, and then placed it in the back next to his robot.

Max raised his arms up and jumped a little. "I bet you can do anything!"

"Hmm..." Closing the back hatch of the SUV, he moved down to be at eye-level. "Well, I have yet to slay any dragons." He paused when Max laughed, and then he watched as a car with the name of the local pizza drove by to park somewhere in the parking lot. "Or pizza. Pizza will be easier." He raised both eyebrows, and grinned at him.

"Pizza's here?"

"Yeah," Scarlatti pointed as the delivery man was taking out a couple of bags that kept the pizza hot from the backseat of his car. Grinning, he glanced down at Max. "Want to race to the picnic tables?"

"I'll win."

"Oh, you think so, huh?"

"Yeah, you're kinda old, and old people are slow."

Scarlatti laughed. "Yeah, sure, Captain Shorty. Whatever you say." He rested his hands on his hips, and said, "We'll race all the way there, and if you can touch one of the tables first, you'll win."

"Okay."

The two readied themselves, and the man started counting down from three, but once he got to two, Max rushed off.

"Hey! That's cheating!" Scarlatti called out to him, but grinned as he raced off after him around the school.

He caught up with him easily, running passed him. "Too slow!"

"Am not!" Max ran as fast as he could, managed to pass Scarlatti, but didn't seem to realize that the SRU officer only slowed down some as they ran across the back parking lot the school buses would park behind the school toward the outdoor shelter, where the rest of the students and parents were gathered.

When Max skidded to a stop and touched one of the picnic tables, he whirled around, arms in the air. "I win! I win!" He shouted in victory as he skipped around until Mrs. Baliant told him to stop before he hurts someone or himself.

Scarlatti slowed to a stop, smiling and laughing when he finally arrived a few seconds after Max did. Panting and sweating a little from the sudden run and from today's heat, he ambled over to the two ice chests that was on the cement floor by one of the tables, and grabbed a couple of bottled waters. He briefly conversed with the other parents as he made his way over to Max, who was sitting at one of the tables with several other students, but facing the other way to avoid talking to anyone. He sat down, facing the parking lot like Max was, and handed him one of the bottles he opened for the kid.

Leaning back, he said after catching his breath, "Nice little race," He drank down a bit of the cold water. "We should have a run around the neighborhood or the park some time." He glanced at him, while the boy was quietly drinking the water. "I see...the winner of the race doesn't want to talk to the loser. That hurts my feelings, you know?" He pouted but grinned, looking out toward the parking lot and the back of the school.

Max lightly patted him on the arm to get his attention, and when Scarlatti gazed down at him, he was met with a smirk. "Don't worry, Spike," he responded, "I'll still talk to you."

"Well, that certainly makes me feel better to know you care." He said with a light chuckle.

"I think you slowed down to let me win though."

He glanced down at him again, slowly smiling. "Nothing gets by you either."

Max shrugged, smiling back.

They looked up when some of the children happily announced, "Pizza!" once they saw the pizza deliverer finally making his way toward them. Mrs. Baliant waved her hand at the young, college-aged man after she took her money out of her purse to pay for the lunch and for the tip. She respectively declined offers to help pay for it, and told the adults that this was also her way of saying thank you to the parents, and for Officer Scarlatti, for coming to speak to her class. After everything was set up with the pizza boxes opened, the children went first, each being allowed up to two slices, and then the adults went to take their two slices, or one, and all of them enjoyed other goodies some of the parents brought with them, like ice cream afterward.

**1:25pm**

Winnie was sleeping when he went home to check on her first before going back to the Barn to return everything he took with him to the school. After enjoying the lunch and saying goodbye's to the children, Mrs. Baliant, and the other parents, he realized a couple of things when he left. He didn't like saying goodbye to Max, and he was actually missing the kid already, even though he'll pick him up around three when the school ended for the day.

Standing in front of the stove in their kitchen, he smiled thoughtfully. _So, this is how it feels...I'm missing some kid who isn't even my own._ He thought as he waited for the tea kettle to finish heating up the water.

Once it was finished, he grabbed a nice sized cup from the cupboard above him, and fished out a tea bag from the container they used to store the variety of different flavored tea bags. He grabbed a tea spoon out of the silverware drawers, and made the hot tea. He breathed in deeply the aroma the peppermint tea made, and placed a couple of ice cubes to help cool it down some.

After he was finished in the kitchen, he made his way upstairs, and quietly headed inside their bedroom where he found her when he first returned home before deciding to make her the herbal tea. His wife was laying down on her left side with a quilt his mother made wrapped around her waist. He quietly approached her side of the bed, where he set the hot cup of tea down on her night stand, and then, as carefully as he could, brought the quilt up to cover her shoulder. Smiling softly, he carefully sat down beside her to gently run his fingers through her hair as he watched her sleep for a few minutes.

When he leaned closer to give her a kiss on the cheek, she groaned lightly in her sleep before parting her eyes to see him looking down at her. She gazed up at him sleepily, but managed to smile at her husband. "Hey..." she murmured.

Scarlatti smiled back, leaning down again and kissed her softly on the lips. "Hey," he whispered, "Were you able to catch up on your beauty sleep?" When she nodded, he then asked, "I didn't wake you, did I?"

Winnie thought about it, and then slowly nodded as she grinned. "Maybe." She yawned, reaching a hand out to caress his cheek. "What time is it?"

"Thirty-five til two in the afternoon," He told her, taking her hand into both of his, and kissed her fingers lightly for a moment. "I decided to check up on you before I go back to the Barn to return everything I took for Max's Career Day thing he had in his class."

"Oh, Mike," she said, "You know you don't have to check up on me all the time."

"I know," He responded as he leaned over again to kiss her on the lips. "But I want to because I love you."

She smiled, kissing him back, and then stared into his eyes she always seemed to get lost in for a while. "Is that peppermint hot tea I smell?" When he responded by flashing her his smile and nodded, she leaned up and gave him a few kisses, and then whispered, "Have you ever been this perfect your entire life, or..."

He lightly chuckled, reaching a hand to brush some of her hair behind her ear, and then cupped the side of her face.

While he stared back at her, he answered humbly, "Well, I'm not sure about being perfect all of my life, but..." Grinning, he continued, "I think you married me because of the uniform and Kevlar, and not just because of me being insanely smart and good looking, and making you laugh all the time, and then being able to cook you real Italian food instead of you using that in-store crap you were cooking with before we got together."

In which what he mentioned to her, was what she said to everyone during their wedding reception last year.

"Mmm," Smiling, Winnie thought about wanting to have some for tomorrow night, but mentioned, "I do like your Italian sausage."

That was it. The line he whispered into her ear back at the reception that sent the two in a giggling fit. _'You like me because of my Italian sausage.'_ The two laughed like a couple of teenagers throughout the rest of the night. Now, the two were snickering about it again.

"And you pester me about when my mind is in the gutter, Winnie," Scarlatti stated. "That's not fair."

"You laughed first!"

"No, I think you started laughing first," She playfully slapped him lightly in the arm. "Well, look at it this way. At least you aren't drinking anything right now...not like last time." Winnie grinned, shaking her head at him as he went on, "The next thing I know, everyone was looking at you, wondering what the hell just happened, and probably wondering if you and I had too much to drink."

"Oh, God, Mike," She chuckled. "I nearly choked though!"

"You didn't because you spat out all of that delicious, homemade sweet wine made by my cousins." He tried looking upset, but was failing miserably with both eyebrows raised, eyes wide, and giving her that dimpled smile she loved so much, while continuing to laugh with her.

She grinned, replying, "Your fault, Michelangelo "Spike" Scarlatti." She slapped him in the chest, this time, a little bit harder than she intended. "It's not like I wasted all of it."

"Ow, geez," Pouting, he rubbed where she slapped him."So violent. That's domestic violence right there, you know? Oh, and to top it all off, assault on a police officer." She snaked her hand behind the back of his neck and slowly started bringing his face closer to hers. "I think...I'm going to have to..." He gradually trailed off as she drew him closer to her.

"Shut up, Officer Scarlatti," She whispered seductively, gazing at his lips. "You know you like it."

Grinning back, he pressed his lips against hers finally, and moaned a little as they kissed lovingly. A minute passed, and they parted for air; gazing at each other as they smiled.

"You know me too well," He whispered, caressing her cheek tenderly before turning around to check on the hot tea's temperature. "The tea's not scalding hot anymore. You want it now?" He glanced back at her, and she nodded at him.

"Sure," Winnie then asked, "Did you have fun talking to Max's class, by the way?" She struggled to sit up in the bed, and quietly appreciated it when he stood up to help her by propping the three pillows of hers behind her, so she could sit comfortably in bed to drink the hot tea.

Once she was situated, he carefully handed her the cup of tea, and she took it in both hands as he returned to sit down beside her. Smiling, he replied, "I did," Adding, "It was great talking to all of them. I held all of their attention, and they were so curious...so many questions coming from them, that I didn't think I was going to be able to finish before the bell rang."

"Good," She smiled back after taking a sip of the peppermint tea. "I'm glad you had fun today with those kids."

He chuckled lightly, thinking about today's event at the school. "But, uh, I think they were more interested in Babycakes. Not that I don't mind. Kids know an awesome robot when they see one."

His phone buzzed, and he took it out of the pocket of his pants to see who was contacting him. It was Tyler, sending him a text message. He viewed it, and glanced up when he heard Winnie asking who was it.

"Tyler," he said, "I asked him to run a background check on our neighbors." He looked back down at his phone while he started to type in his reply. "He said he'll have some free time in a couple of hours from now, and he'll start running the background checks on Max's parents."

Winnie sighed at that, and he gazed back up at her when he was finished responding to Tyler's text, and then raised an eyebrow at her. He wasn't sure if she approved of it or not.

"Oh, no," Scarlatti sighed, "You think I shouldn't have?"

"No," Winnie gazed back at him, and then smiled grimly. "Well, maybe. They're going to know, but I'm just hoping..."

"Me, too," he replied, "But...the way Max has been hinting it...it just seems like he is being abused at home. Or someone is."

"Maybe it's why they've been asking us to watch over him these past several months when they go on their business trips."

"Instead of..." He slowly nodded, realizing that she could be right. "Yeah."

The Paul and Jennifer Greene were a somewhat private couple, kept to themselves most of the time, but were friendly to them when they moved in. He figured they trusted him after finding out he was a police officer, and knew he would keep Max safe. Though, the question still remained as to why they didn't want to tell him anything concerning Max if someone else was abusing the boy. Now he was beginning to doubt that the parents were the abusers, and it was someone else who they didn't want around them anymore. The background check would answer it when Tyler can finally get to it.

Winnie grabbed his hand with her free hand to get his attention, and wondered, "Were you able to speak to him?"

"Not really," Scarlatti said. He opened his mouth to continue, but 8-Bit started to bark his head off outside. He breathed in a deep breath and exhaled.

Chuckling, he grinned as he went to get up. "I'll bring him inside. Probably barking at some squirrel or some cat." He stood up, giving her a quick kiss.

Winnie returned the kiss, grinning back. "Okay," They hugged after he helped her set the cup of tea back on the nightstand, and then she watched him head to the doorway. "Maybe we can talk to him later."

Scarlatti stopped, turned around and pressed his hand against the door frame to support himself when he leaned slightly to the side. "We'll see," he shrugged, "I would like to talk to Greg about this when he and Marina arrive for dinner tonight." When she nodded, he smiled and waved before walking down to the kitchen to see what was the German Shepard barking at.

He stood by the sliding glass door for a few moments, peering out to see 8-Bit barking at a man in a white shirt and blue jeans walking around the side of the Greene's house. He unlocked the glass and then the screen door, and slid the two doors open to step out.

"Hey," He called out to the man as he carefully approached him, "Can I help you?" 8-Bit stopped barking for a moment, looking back at his master, whined, and then continued barking.

The man quickly turned around, startled, and stared back at Scarlatti before smiling innocently, and heading toward the front when he noticed the Italian's SRU uniform.

"Oh, I was just looking," muttered the man, and trying to avoid conversation.

"Looking...?" Scarlatti rolled his eyes, thinking, _Just looking, my ass._

He went over to grab 8-Bit by the collar to bring him back inside. The dog always barked at everyone, but it was rare to hear him growl at someone, and when he noticed the fur standing up on end, he knew something was up with this man. He didn't like it, and neither did 8-Bit.

Once he closed and secured both of the doors again, he released his hold around the dog's collar.

8-Bit rushed into the living room, jumped on the couch that was located beneath the picture window, and started to bark again.

"Be quiet, 8-Bit..." Scarlatti sighed, slightly annoyed, but he wouldn't blow off the dog's intuition. "I know, buddy. I know."

He walked out the front door, glad he was able to catch up to the man who was almost at the end of his neighbor's driveway.

"Hey, buddy," Scarlatti repeated, "Can I help you?"

The guy was plainly nervous around him, and when he tried to act normal, it wouldn't take a behavioral expert to see how poorly the man was acting.

"Oh, nah," he said, "I'm just...looking to see if anyone was home."

"Is that so?" He smiled a little, not impressed with the man's answer. He could be intimidating if he wanted to, and right now, it was one of those times. Though, it might have been because his hand was resting on the handle of his handgun still strapped inside his thigh holster, when the officer noticed two people sitting inside a beat-up truck parked across the street.

"Yep," The man smiled innocently, while nodding. "My wife, kid, and I thought we should come over and talk to the Greene's."

"About what?"

The more the two men talked, the more Scarlatti learned that the man was Jennifer's brother and Max's uncle. The man introduced himself as Gideon McFarland, and he just arrived from upper Ontario to talk to his sister and husband about taking Max for some camping over the weekend, but didn't realize they were away on a business trip.

Scarlatti then told him, "His parents told me that they didn't want their son to go anywhere with anyone, other than with my wife and I."

"Seriously?"

"Sorry, but..."

"So, they let their neighbors watch him and not his own uncle and aunt?"

"Look," Scarlatti took a step back from him. "I'm sorry, but I'm only respecting their wishes, and they never said anyone was picking him up to go camping for the weekend."

McFarland scoffed, "What did they say about me this time?" He demanded, "What other bullshit have they came up with to cause me to not to be allowed near my nephew?"

He sighed, and tried to defuse the situation before Gideon became even more upset. "Mister McFarland -"

The man interrupted him, "Listen to me, Officer Scarlatti. You tell my sister and her husband that they need to stop it with the lies, or I'm going to sue them for slander. Do you understand?"

_Things just keep getting interesting for me today..._Thought the Italian, nodding. "I'll make sure to tell them that, sir."

McFarland huffed, shaking his head as he stared at him suspiciously. "I'll hold you to that." He said before turning around to head back to the awaiting truck to leave.

Scarlatti watched him get into the passenger seat, and said something to the woman who was apparently the man's wife, and then she pushed down on the accelerator and left; glancing back at him as they drove passed his house. When they turned the corner and disappeared, he sighed, taking his notepad and pen out to write down their license plate, make, and year of the truck before he climbed inside the SUV to return to the SRU.


End file.
